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Axel stares at me a second longer, then he shakes off Luca’s hold. "I’m listening," he snaps.
"I…"
Axel holds my gaze and the courage seems to drain out of me. A trembling grips me. My heart thuds so hard in my chest, I am sure it’s going to break out of my rib cage. "I…" My knees seem to give way from under me. I sway. Both Axel and Luca step forward, but Axel reaches me first.
He grips my forearm. "What the hell?" His scowl deepens. "Have you eaten anything today?"
"I…" I shake my head. "No, I haven’t. I woke up and uh, came in search of you."
"And to think, I’m the one who was shot. You need a keeper, you know that?" He guides me to a chair and pushes me onto it.
"I am fine," I protest. Sweat breaks out on my brow and I lean back into the chair.
"You are not bloody fine." He lowers himself onto his haunches in front of me. "Deep breaths," he says in a brisk voice, "are you feeling faint?"
"No," I murmur, "just a little weak."
"Someone, get her a glass of orange juice," he orders as he peers into my face.
I close my eyes because I can’t bear to see the concern in his eyes, which is so at odds with the rest of his attitude, and also, because I am actually feeling a little lightheaded. It’s probably from the adrenaline that had rushed through me when I’d made that bold statement—the one I hadn’t even been aware I was going to say until I heard the words emerge from my mouth. But once I heard it, it felt right. I’d known from the moment I set my eyes on this guy, I’m not going to let him get away. And while marriage might not mean the same thing to him as it does to me, it’s one way of trying to form some kind of connection with him, right?
Footsteps sound, then I sense Axel lean in closer. "Here," he orders, "drink this."
I open my eyes to see him holding out a glass of orange juice in my line of sight.
I glance from the glass to him.
"Go on," he holds it to my lips, "take a sip."
I drink from it. Only when I have drained the glass, does he lower it and place it on the table next to me.
"Better?"
I nod.
"Good. Now you can take back what you said earlier."
"Axel," Michael warns, "let her speak."
Axel firms his lips.
"I… I can’t speak when you are glaring at me."
"I am not glaring at you."
"Yes, you are." I squirm around in the seat.
"Why don’t you say your piece looking into my eyes, eh?" I scowl.
"Don’t intimidate her," Seb admonishes him.
"Yeah, give her some breathing space, will you?" Massimo adds.
Axel rises up to his feet and keeps rising. Jesus, I’d forgotten how tall he is. And despite the weight he’s lost over the last few days, his muscles are still defined enough that the T-shirt he’s wearing clings to his shoulders.
He folds his arms across his chest and bares his teeth.
I flinch, "Wh…what is that?"
